


WeCryde Collections of Oneshots

by WeCryde (Cryde2Me)



Category: South Park
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-11 10:17:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3323828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cryde2Me/pseuds/WeCryde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a collection of Cryde oneshots written for WeCryde on tumblr. Each chapter is based off a headcanon submitted to the blog. As some work will be NSFW, this collection of oneshots will be rated M.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Breathless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HC: Clyde doesn't smoke. He thinks it'll interfere with football. He gets his first taste of cigarettes by kissing Craig.

HC: Clyde doesn’t smoke. He thinks it’ll interfere with football. He gets his first taste of cigarettes by kissing Craig.  

* * *

 

Up on the roof, alone and away from the crowd, Craig kept his solemn gaze on the heavens high above him. The stars, infinite as they were small, dotted the vast night sky. There was a morbid solace he found staring up at the constellations, though he knew absolute shit about astronomy. If he gave an actual fuck about school, he might've been able to name more than the Great Dipper, but Craig couldn't be bothered to give a damn. The teachers, the principal have all given up on him. It's a miracle to himself and everyone around him he hasn't dropped out of high school yet.

Crappy, auto-tuned music continued to play down below. Craig tried his best to block out the sounds, but it proved to be difficult when the people at Bebe's party must either be having the time of their lives, or a serial killer must be in their midst by all the shrill screaming grating against his ears.

He took a long drag of his cigarette, allowing the putrid toxins to fill his lungs. As he slowly blew the cloud of smoke from his lips, his view of the sky was momentarily obscured. The numbed emotions prickling in his chest was the closest he could feel to true happiness in this shitty town with its shitty people.

Laughter from his peers permeated the air, and Craig felt it was as distant as the stars. He could never be part of that. This wasn't his scene, wasn't his party. He didn't belong here. Never did. He should run far, far away where no one knew him and start anew. He could die in a ditch somewhere, Craig didn't care. He wanted out one way or another. Fuck everyone in South Park. Why did he even stay when there was nothing for him here?

Just as Craig questioned why, the reason himself popped his head up and joined Craig on the roof.

"Hey there loser, whatcha doing here all by yourself?" Sauntering over to where Craig laid on his back, Clyde sat down beside him with a cocky grin. The expression on the brunette's face caused Craig to boil with undue rage. It was a weakness he hated about himself for finding that stupid grin heartbreakingly endearing.

He kept his eyes on the constellations, stubbornly avoiding looking over at his friend. Only seconds past as he continued to ignore him, but Craig knew for Clyde- the ever so overly hyper teen- it must've felt like eons. Not even a full minute went by before Craig felt Clyde's foot nudge him at the ankle.

"Is that how it is? You're gonna keep ignoring me?" More nudging. "Too bad for you, the more you ignore me, the more I'll keep annoying you, Craig-i-roni~." Clyde took the opportunity to sing that hateful song. "Bad Craig, bad Craig, whatcha gonna do when they come for you~ Bad boy, bad boy~ Now the guitar solo riff!"

Sighing in exasperation, Craig bit down on the cigarette butt and took a deep inhale. "How'd you find me?" he drawled, the wisps of smoke leaving his lips to dissipate into the night air. He finally bothered to glance to his side and caught Clyde shrugging his shoulders.

"Token," the brunette explained, leaning back on his hands and tilting his head up to look at the sky too. "He said he saw you head to the back of the house. I figured you'd be up on the roof. You always had a thing for stars." The corners of Clyde's mouth curled up wistfully. "I can't blame you though. It's beautiful here."

Immediately, unable to stop himself, Craig's eyes drifted to Clyde's lips and drank in the distracted smile. A pang of yearning, bitter and ugly, weighed at his heart as he remembered the taste of Clyde's lips against his own.

Months ago at a different party, they were both drunk off their asses when Clyde suddenly kissed him. The details of how or why they started kissing were blurry, but Craig vividly relived the moment Clyde smashed their mouths together. The sweetness of Jungle Juice on Craig's tongue clashed with the frantic, rough hands tearing at his clothes. Clyde held him against the bathroom door with his body, forcing Craig's lips open with the pressure of his mouth.

Up until that night, Craig had only passingly thought of his friend as "cute" with his odd boyish charm. But when Clyde's tongue slid past the seams of his lips; the erotic strokes of that talented tongue against Craig's..."Cute" was the furthest thing from the noirette's mind, especially when he greedily swallowed all of Clyde's pretty little moans, his passionate whimpers as Clyde rutted against him.

The door banged against its wooden frame with every slam of the brunette's hips. Wanting more friction, more pressure, Clyde eventually grabbed Craig's ass, pressing their straining cocks together.

If it weren't for the loud, insistent knocking on the door and Cartman's yelling for "whoever it is in there to hurry up and fuck" so he could use the bathroom, Craig suspected the two of them would've gone much further than dry humping.

Craig never found out if it was mere speculation on his part or if his suspicion rang true. The next morning, neither of them talked about it. They went on about their day, acting as if everything was still the same and nothing had changed between them. Craig was fine with that, Clyde remaining his best friend. The months rolled by, and indeed there wasn't a major shift in their friendship.

Except, sometimes in his dreams at night, Craig could hear the desperate way Clyde panted his name.

Lost in his memories, Craig caught only the last half of the brunette's question. "- really fun?"

"What?" Craig scowled, annoyed he was so distracted he didn't hear Clyde speak to him. "Say it again."

Clyde laughed, the sound of it worming its way through Craig's caged heart. "You drunk or something? What's with you today?" The shorter teen smacked his shoulder, causing Craig's frown to deepen. "I said is smoking really fun? You've been doing it a lot lately."

"Why are you asking? You want to try it?" Being the absolutely asshole he was, Craig took a drag of his cigarette and purposely blew the smoke in the brunette's direction. "You changed your mind about it destroying your lungs and football career?"

"I dunno." Clyde hunched over and hugged his knees. "I'm curious? I never tried it, you know that. I know it's bad for you, but you make it seem like it tastes good or whatever."

"It doesn't," Craig said in a tone reeking of boredom, "Stay the good boy and stop thinking about it. It doesn't suit you anyway."

Clyde tilted his head and stared down at the raven curiously. "Then why are you doing it?"

Lazily, a grey puff of smoke swirled from Craig's mouth. "You wouldn't understand even if I told you." He didn't want to tell Clyde, his soft-hearted friend, it helped numb his emotions further. The thought of slowly killing himself by packing his lungs with poison, a sweet relief from this sad existence. Clyde would feel sorry for him, but there was nothing to feel sorry for. Craig willingly wanted this. As if to prove his point, he took a deep breath and allowed the smoke to completely fill his lungs. "What are you doing here, Clyde? Shouldn't you be off in a corner somewhere making out with a slut of the week?"

Clyde grunted unhappily at Craig's change in subject, but answered the noirette's question nonetheless. "The party just started," he said with a pout, "Who says I can't bag a hot babe by the end of it?"

Craig mustered enough effort to roll his eyes before shifting his gaze back to the sky. He stopped paying attention to Clyde's presence and the ridiculousness the brunette automatically brought with him, concentrating instead on the twinkling stars. He lost himself to the night beauty, the clamoring of the party a faraway sound. For a long time, Clyde stayed silent, sitting beside him as he allowed Craig his peaceful moment.

In the back of his mind, Craig found it odd Clyde remained so still for so long. When the brunette shifted, Craig assumed it was to leave the roof to rejoin the party, but Clyde only moved to block is view of the stars. The jock loomed over him, his green eyes shimming like the constellations above his head.

An eyebrow raised in question, the cigarette grew bright orange as Craig inhaled. Before he could open his mouth to ask what the fuck was Clyde was up to, the brunette deftly plucked the cigarette from his mouth and kissed him.

Lips soft and silky as he remembered, caressed his own as Clyde molded his mouth to fit across Craig's. The jock beckoned for his lips to part, and drowning in the sweet taste of the kiss, Craig could only give in to the request. Slowly, in small increments, Craig opened up to him and the huff of smoke billowed from his mouth and into Clyde's.

Tiny tendrils drifted between their lips as the brunette breathed in the grey cloud of smoke; then even that disappeared when Clyde sealed his mouth over his companion. In languid swipes and lazy strokes, Clyde explored Craig's wet heat with his tongue. Gone was the desperation and passionate lust from last time. In its place was a kiss sweet as it was gentle. The way Clyde worshipped his mouth, like he would die if Craig denied him, it felt as if they had all the time in the world to discover each others' secrets.

Gently, so gently, Clyde brushed his fingertips across Craig's cheeks, treating him as if he was precious, something he couldn't bear to see break. The guttural moans of the brunette that previously filled Craig's dreams, were all gradually being replaced by the content sighs echoing in his ears.

When their lips finally parted, Craig stared long and hard at the jock, not saying a single thing. In return, Clyde smiled softly and stuffed what was left of the cigarette back between Craig's mouth.

"I can see the appeal of smoking now," Clyde said, his cocky grin back on his face. "I can definitely get addicted to this." With those parting words, he rolled off of Craig and started towards the ladder at the side of the house.

Just as Clyde began to make his way down the roof, Craig shouted after him. "Are you drunk again?"

The brunette's amused laughter drifted back to him. "No, not this time." And then he was gone, back to the God forsaken party.

Craig stared at the spot where Clyde left, wondering about what all this could mean. He was afraid to think too much and put meaning behind the kiss when there was probably none. As he agonized over Clyde's cryptic words, his phone began vibrating. Craig took it out of his pocket, and scowled at Clyde's text.

{Text from: Crybaby Asshole} Told you I'd bag a hot babe by the end of the night ;)

* * *

A/n: That’s the end folks. But the continuation of the text goes a little bit like

Craig: You’re an idiot

Clyde: But I’m you’re idiot LOL.

Craig: Clyde, you ARE drunk aren’t you?

Clyde: Off of love and you, yeah.

Craig: Wtf? Are you confessing? You like me?

Clyde: Maaaybe. Is that yes if I am confessing?

Craig: Clyde, are you fucking with me? This isn’t funny.

Clyde: Nope not fucking. I’ll make love to you, like you want me to~

Craig: Fuck you, Clyde.

Clyde: Just give me the time and place baby ;)

And then Craig smashes his phone because he can’t deal with Clyde lol. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s the end folks. But the continuation of the text goes a little bit like
> 
> Craig: You’re an idiot
> 
> Clyde: But I’m you’re idiot LOL.
> 
> Craig: Clyde, you ARE drunk aren’t you?
> 
> Clyde: Off of love and you, yeah.
> 
> Craig: Wtf? Are you confessing? You like me?
> 
> Clyde: Maaaybe. Is that yes if I am confessing?
> 
> Craig: Clyde, are you fucking with me? This isn’t funny.
> 
> Clyde: Nope not fucking. I’ll make love to you, like you want me to~
> 
> Craig: Fuck you, Clyde.
> 
> Clyde: Just give me the time and place baby ;)
> 
> And then Craig smashes his phone because he can’t deal with Clyde lol.


	2. Whitenoise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HC by free-south-park : I have this headcanon that when Clyde and Craig have sex, it's not just sex. Like they make love. It last longer because while Clyde or Craig is thrusting inside, they are also loving and praising the others body. Sweetly kissing and whispering loving compliments in the other's ear. And it's a big deal for Clyde since he has low self esteem towards his body
> 
> Warning: Mentions of sex

The force of the explosion caused Clyde's room to tremble in its wake. Buildings crumbled, people screamed for their lives- every reverberation from the booming stereo threatened to shatter the windows of his bedroom.

Clyde made no effort to turn the volume of the TV down. His mind was somewhere else. He heard nothing. Not a thing beyond Craig's sighs or the pleasure filled moans as the noirette sank deeper into him.

Moments where they could freely be absorbed in one another's bodies, hear the sweet sound the other made- all of it had to be planned and calculated by the minute. They didn't want anyone to hear, anyone to know. But the intimacy? The pure, raw pleasure of Craig's weight pressing him down into the mattress? Those were as spontaneous as the changes to their relationship.

Or maybe not.

Unlike Stan and Kyle, the two peas in a pod, Clyde and Craig were nothing alike. Their lifestyle, their taste in music- there was hardly anything they had in common. Yet despite the vast difference between them, they were inseparable as best friends.

That should've been enough for Clyde to figure out he's been infatuated with his friend since day one. Something about Craig drew Clyde to the him, but he never questioned it; neither of them did. It felt natural for them to be together side-by-side, even if in the eyes of others, it was odd. So when Craig kissed him out of the blue one day, Clyde simply kissed him back without hesitation.

It was like a missing piece of the puzzle clicked inside Clyde's head when their lips touched. "Ah," he thought, "so I like Craig. I've liked him for a long time."

Poets and romantics talk about love as if fireworks had to burst in the skies the moment your eyes met. But they're wrong. The detail of when they fell in love with one another, when they realized they thought of the other male as more than a friend- it was just that, a small detail in the grand scheme of things. How to pinpoint when they crossed the line, when there wasn't an exact line to cross? In their decade long friendship, it was the little moments that gathered and built upon each other that brought them to where they are now. Their descent into this madness was as gradual as it was inevitable.

The sound of a car exploding drowned out another moan ripped from Clyde's throat as Craig pulled out of him to only slowly plunge back in.

"Clyde," Craig panted, his breath hot against the brunette's ear, "Move your hand. I want to see your face."

"No."

Craig smiled at the stubborn reply, though Clyde wasn't able to see the rare sight. Gently, he took the hand shielding Clyde's eyes from him and pinned it down on the bed. "You're cute when you're smug," he murmured, brushing a soft kiss into the other teen's flushed cheeks. "But you're cuter when you're shy since I'm the only one that sees this side of you."

Clyde's breath stuttered as he drank in the praises he wasn't used to hearing unless it came from the noirette's lips. His eyes fluttered open, dazed and overwhelmed. He opened his mouth to speak, but Craig knew him well. He kissed him, silencing whatever words of denials Clyde was about to spout.

The apathetic teen known for being unforgivingly blunt, whispered reassurances of love and tender affection into Clyde's ear.

Shivering, drowning from Craig's sweet sentiments, Clyde wrapped his legs around the other male's waist. He loved the feeling of being completely opened to Craig, of being possessed by him. For no one else would Clyde feel this way, because there was no one else he trusted more. He lifted the hand he curled around Craig's hip and brought it to the nape of his neck, sheltering him as he smiled his own love back. He whispered the words he knew Craig wanted to hear, "I love you. I love you more than anything."

Craig gasped as he buried himself inside Clyde's tight heat, but never once did he increase their pace. He wanted this to last, to go on forever because there was no such thing as "just sex" between them. Each time they coupled, it was an intimate act between lovers appreciating, admiring each others' God given body. Flaws and imperfections were forgotten as mouths and hands worshipped them reverently.

Clyde arched into Craig's slow thrust. He sighed as skin damp with sweat slid against each other. Blue eyes gazed down into his; their passion built, but neither looked away. Their eyes locked, unwilling to give into the primal instinct that craved privacy at their most vulnerable moment.

Craig didn't drop his head into the crook of Clyde's neck, but kept it above him, staring down. In turn, Clyde didn't press his cheek into the pillow but gazed upward.

The boldness of allowing another person, even one so deeply trusted and loved, to have an open conduit into the other's soul, intensified every movement.

Green swallowed Blue. Blue devoured green.

Their union was nothing more than a physical representation of what they already knew. Eyes opened, they came together in a melding of souls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got a prompt? I'll take requests if it involves Cryde. I have very few limits so I'm up for anything, but if it involves love triangles, cheating, or mentioning/allusions to one of the boys being attracted to someone else, I'm afraid those plots don't interest me.


	3. Starry Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From clydedorkovan head canon: Craig asks if he can paint on Clyde’s back and they have a pretty intimate time as Craig paints a starry night sky on his boyfriend’s back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shhhhh I cheated. This is an old fanfic I wrote for different fandom. I simply tweaked the names around to make it Cryde. No one needs to know that.

A palm-sized censer burned in the middle of the table. Wisps of scented camphor and sandalwood twisted and swirled in silence, adding a note of tranquility to the already quiet room. The air steadily grew cooler as the sun dipped into the horizon and night hungered to approach. Where the dying rays of warmth touched, red bled into the carpet.

An autumn breeze swept by. Swaying where the wind willed it, the sheer curtains by the window billowed for a moment, and the bodies of two young men entangled together was exposed to the setting sun. As if ashamed to have revealed the carnal affairs of its occupants, the light gossamer curtains quietly, without even a whisper of a sound, settled back to its former place.

The bedside candle flickered, casting a playful shadow against the naked young lovers. The white sheets rustled; the bed creaked. Outside, the lonely cricket sang its’ sad, sad song. Ignoring all of the little distractions, Craig traced down the curve of Clyde’s spine. His fingers sank into flesh whiter than ivory, but softer than the finest satin. With a firm downward stroke of his brush, Craig dirtied the translucent snow white skin.

A sighing moan broke the silence in the room. Clyde closed his eyes and shivered as the cold, black ink swept across his sensitive back. He wanted to squirm or giggle from the ticklish touch, but Craig’s strong hand on his hip kept him still. Downward, right to left, the tips of the brush danced upon his skin, painting a scene he couldn’t see with his mind’s eye.

When he finished, Craig whispered against the brunet’s collarbone, his warm breath a welcomed contrast to the cool night air. “Done.”

Clyde turned his head. He gazed into mischievous blue eyes with hooded curiosity. “What did you draw?”

Craig shifted a little closer, his hand leisurely sliding up from Clyde’s hip to the side of his ribcage. Heat from the noirette’s body seeped into Clyde’s back as Craig slowly crawled over him. The raven blew a gust of warm air to dry the paint on Clyde’s skin and he almost trembled from the sensation.

“The Starry Night by Van Gogh." 

"Why?” Clyde asked. After their round of sex, Craig asked him - quite persistently in fact- if he could paint him. At first, Clyde thought Craig meant paint his portrait. However, the other teen literally meant paint on his body.

Gently, Craig smiled his rare smile. “Because,” he explained, bending to kiss Clyde’s shoulder, “you are beautiful.”

Clyde gave him a speculative look before abruptly sitting up. The sheet pooled around his waist as he bared his naked body to Craig’s appreciative eyes. He shoved at the noirette’s shoulders, pushing him back onto the mattress.

A temptation he wasn’t sure he wanted to resist, Craig raised an eyebrow when Clyde pressed his warm, lush body against him. “The paint isn’t dried yet,” he quietly admonished with no real conviction to his words.

“That’s okay.” Wrapping his arms around Craig’s neck, Clyde dragged his lips against the other boy’s. “You can paint it back on later.” The wind blew out the candle and Clyde’s husky laughter drifted out from the darkness.  "Much later.“


End file.
